MIDNIGHT IN THE GARDEN
At long last, Bryce Thomas re-awakens with a new album
exploring earthy depths. What follows is a
brief insight into each track courtesy of the man
himself.
Venezia | My
attempt to recapture the labyrinthine soul of
Italy's most sensually saturated city. My love
and I are still lost in its weaving alleys and
milk-green canals. An old Italian accordion of
mine makes special appearance on this song.
Wanderlust |
Despite initial impressions, perhaps, this song
is an argument for the giving of one's all to
the lover that has ensnared your heart. I
traveled the world with mine for near 2 years
with barely a moment apart... so I sing from
experience.
Gone | This song is
for the many dear and beautiful friends who
remain afloat
on the waves of love. One can
only wonder why. Tragedy has an appetite it
would seem.
Powder Blue |
I strongly believe there is
wonderful growth that comes from a sudden social
pruning. Though the sap does run thick at first.
It's also worth noting that this track almost
made it's way onto ONCE WERE EXPLORERS. Alas, I
had to do without the percussive talents of Dave
Stevenson for this version, but I did
re-engineer Chris Monster's bass lines with
adequate success. Another odd but true fact: the
spoken bridge comes from a Jack the Ripper walk
in London, England.
Good Things | Lord
help me if a song like this becomes prescient
intuition. It is (so far) merely a creative
imagining of a great love lost and the family
that denies its passing.
You and Me | This
little piano ditty had been bouncing around for
sometime. It is both an apology and a promise.
And yes, the odd line or two are intentionally
sung with tongue firmly planted in cheek...
although they have also since had me singing the
chorus more truthfully than I had intended. For
the record though, my love, you do make beautiful babies.
Groove Back On |
For every woman (but mine in particular) who is
reclaiming her passion and purpose and just a
good healthy groove in her step... it is
possible to be a mother and a Woman (with a
capital "W") at the same time. In fact it's
absolutely necessary, so break out the
glitter/glamour/glitz ladies!
Dig My Own Grave |
This song sprung to life fully formed, or so it
seemed, in a single night. It is the genesis for
the creative phase that culminated in the entire
album. It is the turning point or the spark, I'm
not sure which. Perhaps both. It is most
certainly a song for getting unstuck.
Midnight in the Garden
| The title track of the album is also my first
waltz, I think, certainly my first lullaby (yes
it's a lullaby). It captures all that was
tearing me apart and that which now feeds my
purpose and momentum. When I first finished
recording it, I played it at incredible volume
in my basement studio while babies slept. I'm
proud to say they kept sleeping too (see, I told
you it was a lullaby).
| ONCE WERE EXPLORERS
|
|
In the summer
of 2004, Bryce released his debut album,
ONCE WERE EXPLORERS, a collection of 8 songs
written while traveling overseas, and featuring
his lovely wife Lisanne on backing vocals, loyal
friend Chris Monster on bass and backing vocals,
drummer-extraordinaire Dave Stevenson on drums
and percussion, and recording engineer and
co-producer King Kong Girio helping sculpt all
the magic. As life would
have it, the birth of that CD corresponded with the birth of
his first
child... and so the CD release party was the
first and last time the songs have been played
live.
Bryce is aiming to rectify that egregious
circumstance.
Riding with Ginsberg |
My musical recollections of an ecstasy-soaked
night in Auckland, New Zealand. We convened with
the spirit of Alan Ginsberg, navigated the
treacherous clubs and chic lounges, and recited
poetry read from t-shirts and water bottle
labels.
Sweet Mermaid
|
Another song penned on the magical and mythical
isles of New Zealand.
The Matador
| The famous/infamous Toronto after-hours club
has long been deserving its own anthem. I try to
give it my best sense of justice.
Edelweiss
|
I
read once that love is an uphill battle. I think
the assumption of that sentiment is that scaling
great heights is a chore best left to young
lovers. Our alter egos Anne and Ron beg to differ.
Faint
| I blushed when I wrote this song. I blushed
when I recorded this song. And I still blush
when I play this song. I think you'll agree,
though, that the world needs more blushing.
Santorini
| When you build a town on the side of a volcano,
you have to expect that millennia later a
newlywed traveler would immortalize the pure
fire of the place in a song for his eternal
flame. And yes, the place did go to her head.
Barracuda & the Buddha
|
My love and I were twelve months into our world
travels on the night of our first wedding
anniversary. We dined on the beach of a Thai
island under torch light. She ordered the
barracuda. I declined tasting it. The hosts and
other patrons ran for their longboats moments
later...
Peace Pipe
|
There are times in my life when I can feel the
sea change before the water does. This song is
about one of those times, and all the beautiful
friends who I knew were to soon drift away on
different currents. I miss you all.
|
